


Dolus

by speakfree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grieving Dean Winchester, Mentions of Mary Winchester - Freeform, Pre-Series, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakfree/pseuds/speakfree
Summary: For a few weeks after Mary died, Dean used to squeeze his eyes shut and imagine her making breakfast, bathing Sammy, giving John a tender kiss on the lips and telling Dean that angels were watching over him.





	Dolus

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2008. Don't ask me why I'm posting it now, I don't even know myself. Thanks to @therealw for the amazing beta work.

**Dolus  
**   
  
**Acceptance, |akˈseptəns|**  
  
Dad had finally sent Dean to work a job on his own - he was twenty-five, for chrissakes. Sonora, California, was hot as hell and Dean needed a cold beer, maybe two, or even better, a fucking six pack, he was sweating like a pig. As he stood in the end of the check-out line at Wal-Mart, he spotted a beautiful blonde of roughly his age at the end of the produce aisle. She was carrying a little kid with floppy brown hair who kept tugging at her long ponytail. And right at that moment, Dean just knew. He'd never get over it.  
  
  
**Depression, |diˈpre sh ən|**  
  
They were in Hays, Kansas, pretty far away from home but not far away enough, in Dean's opinion. Sam and Dean were staying at Aunt Flora's house. Flora was John's older sister. Her husband Patrick and John had met in the corps and once they were back from Vietnam, John had introduced him to his sister. Like every night for the past few months, they were having dinner at seven on the dot. Uncle Patrick was really strict, old marine through and through. One minute he was asking Dean to pass him the sweet tomatoes and the next Dean was sobbing loudly. Auntie Flora thought he was sick and Patrick was a little puzzled, he didn't like kids all that much.  
  
Six-year-old Sam, with his mouth full of mashed potatoes, left his seat and climbed into Dean's lap. With his little fists buried in Dean's shirt, he adjusted himself in the crook of Dean's neck, and gave him a light kiss under the chin.  
  
"Dean, is this about Mom?" Sammy whispered softly in Dean's ear.  
  
Dean stopped crying two days later. Then he and his brother started to plot against Kara, Aunt Flora's diabolic neighbor, who kept mocking Sammy's baggy clothes and Dean's too-short ones.   
  
  
**Guilt, |gilt|**  
  
In Huntington Woods, Michigan, Dean was sixteen and it was prom night. He was standing outside Alexandra's house, she was his prom date and definitely hot, big brown eyes, really long dark hair, exactly the opposite of his mother. His mother. He'd seen Alex whining about her hair, her mom trying to fix it and her dad proudly taking pictures and saying,  _'Where the hell is that Winchester, he's late'_. Dean felt his stomach drop, he was so sorry but he just couldn't do this. He left the corsage on the doorstep and took off.  
  
Back home, Sam was reading  _The Catcher in the Rye_  while John cleaned his weapons.   
  
"Can we go?" Dean said, looking a little nervous.  
  
"What?" Sam asked, confused.  
  
"Can we go wherever it is we're going next?"  
  
"You just have to pack your things, boys." John sounded serious.   
  
"Dad, I'd like to finish my school year," Sam said, pissed.  
  
"What do you want, a piece of paper saying that you're a geek? We already know that," said Dean, heading towards his room.  
  
  
**Denial, |diˈnīəl|**  
  
For a few weeks after Mary died, Dean used to squeeze his eyes shut and imagine her making breakfast, bathing Sammy, giving John a tender kiss on the lips and telling Dean that angels were watching over him.  _'And what about Mommy? Did the angels just forget her?'_  
  
  
**Anger, |ˈa ng gər|**  
  
Sam and Dean were in Bossier City, Louisiana. A possessed kid had killed his mother, and Dean wanted to fucking end the demon, but Sam couldn't let him, the kid was really weak, he didn't want to exorcise him just yet. Dean couldn't care less, he just wanted revenge.   
  
"Dean, there's a kid inside him," Sam said.  
  
"How in hell can they keep doing this?" Dean said it aloud, but he was mostly talking to himself.  
  
"Dean..." Sam said in a soft tone, suddenly realizing what this was all about.  
  
"No Sammy, this is fucked up, they need to be stopped." Dean said, incapable of calming down.  
  
"Dean, killing some kid, possessed or not, is not going to make you feel better about Mom."  
  
"Well, I don't know about that."  
  
  
**Bargaining, |ˈbärgən|**  
  
Near Yakima, Washington, Dean was sleeping in the back seat because he had driven for ten hours straight, Dad was driving and Sam was riding shotgun, reading  _The Grapes of Wrath_. Dad had started to look for a motel because they all needed a shower and sleeping in an actual bed for a few hours.  
  
"Why can't you stay?" Dean said, dreaming.  
  
Sam and John locked eyes, and Sam turned his head to wake his brother up.  
  
"De-" Sam started.  
  
"I promise I'll brush my teeth every night and you know I'll always take care of Sammy," Dean said, sounding pained.   
  
John froze. Sam was torn between waking Dean up and letting him have a few more minutes with their mother.  
  
"Mom?" Dean whispered hopefully.  
  
A couple of minutes later, John found a motel and checked them in while the boys got their bags from the car..  
  
"Dean," John said.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I saw a gas station a couple of miles back, could you go get me some oil?"  
  
"Absolutely. Keys?"  
  
"No. I want you to walk there."  
  
John seemed dead serious and Sam was starting to look mad.   
  
"Okay..." Dean said, not really wanting to know what was going on between their father and Sam.  
  
Dean started to walk, Sam looked at him for a moment and then turned to face John.  
  
"Why in the world did you do that, Dad? I know there's oil in the trunk," Sam said, angrily.  
  
"Not enough. Go shower, Samuel."  
  
"Dad, you know it's not his fault. Why are you punishing him?" Sam said, angrier by the minute.  
  
"I'm not punishing him, son, I just want him to have a good night's sleep," John answered, opening the door of the motel room.  
  
*  
  
They were in Missoula, Montana, when Sam just dropped the bomb. He was going to college, and that was final. Dean felt numb while John kept yelling nonsense about loyalty and family and  _'If you go, don't you dare come back!'_ , helplessly trying to change Sam's mind. Dean just felt numb.  
  
Sam took off in the middle of the night when John and his brother were asleep. Dean showed up at the bus station an hour later with two cups of coffee.  
  
"Asshole," he said as he handed one to Sam.  
  
"Sorry about tha-" Sam said, taking a sip.  
  
"Bullshit. Just... just have fun in college, okay Sammy? And have sex once in awhile, you know how to, right?"  
  
"Don't be a jerk!"  
  
"Don't be a bitch!"   
  
They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their coffee.  
  
"Well, make us proud, geek boy."  
  
And just like that, Dean was gone.  
  
That was the way a Winchester said  _'I love you, take care, I'll miss you, don't forget about us, don't forget about me.'_  
  
*  
  
Six months later, John and Dean were in Garibaldi, Oregon, trying to hunt down a demon, some nutjob who went around killing old ladies for kicks. Dean was at the last victim's house when he noticed the table set up for one, and out of the blue, he started to cry. Then he jumped in the Impala and headed south.  
  
  
fin


End file.
